


Wish He Was Here

by fangirlingovermishacollins



Series: Season 13 Codas [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cas is still dead, Destiel is implied, M/M, Post Episode s13e01Lost and Found, Potential season 13 spoilers, Sadness, Unhappy Dean, Unhappy Ending, sad stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 16:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12346146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlingovermishacollins/pseuds/fangirlingovermishacollins
Summary: Post 13x01. Dean is even more upset over losing Cas now, and can't stop himself from hurting.





	Wish He Was Here

Dean had no idea how he'd kept it all together as well as he had. He felt like his world was crumbling around him. It was a sort of numbness, one he would rather not feel and have. But here it was, and it seemed to be keeping him from showing any real emotion.

Even during the hunter's funeral Cas had gotten, he managed to appear emotionless. Sam was extremely overcome with emotion, discreetly wiping his eyes although both Dean and Jack noticed. They just pretended not to. 

"This bunker will protect me?" Jack asked later in the Impala, Sam in the back with him while Dean drove, running on autopilot.

"Yeah, Jack, it's safe. You can even choose a room, if you want." Sam eyed Dean at the last part, but his brother remained focused on the road and wouldn't look back at him. "Hey, I'm sorry," he suddenly said. "This is probably crazy, you know? You've been arrested, attacked, and have already witnessed a hunter's funeral, and you were just born a day ago."

"I'm finding it slightly difficult to express emotions, but yes, it is a lot. Both my mother and father are dead as well." Jack's face looked slightly angry now. "What happened to my father?"

"He was, uh," Sam began, looking over at Dean before finally saying, "murdered. By Lucifer."

Dean finally spoke up, the first time since Cas's body had been burned and they had started the ride home. "What the hell are you saying, Sammy? He's Lucifer's son, remember?" Jack looked a little confused, shaking his head.

"My father," Jack said, "is Castiel. My mother told me he would watch over me. Castiel protected me when I was in danger, and I never knew Lucifer or any other archangel. I chose Castiel to be my father." 

"Well, that ain't happening now, is it? He died. And according to the drunk angel bitch, not even you can bring him back." Dean sped up the Impala, as if he were putting all his anger into driving. "Damn shame."

"Angels don't understand me. Heaven turns against me before I was born. Why would they know what I can and cannot do?"

"Okay, okay, damnit. You might, and I seriously think it won't happen anytime soon, _might_ be able to revive the son of a bitch. Let's just get home so I can get some damn sleep." Sam turned to look out the window at that, knowing that when Dean said 'rest,' he most likely meant 'drink until I can't feel anything.' 

"Do you have something I can eat?" Jack asked. Sam wasn't sure if he said it to change the subject or if he really was hungry, or both even. "It appears the chocolate and candy I ate only filled me up temporarily." 

"We could stop by a store or something, and you can choose your own stuff." Sam shrugged. "But we do have food at the bunker. Up to you."

Jack took about a minute to decide that he would be okay with whatever the Winchesters already had, and the rest of the drive was spent in silence. Dean had made the drive to the bunker plenty of times, but this felt longer than any other drive. He felt like he was frozen with shock, or maybe he just hadn't fully comprehended the sudden string of events that had occurred. Whatever it was, it kept him from breaking down, so he was slightly relieved.

~•~•~•~•

"Sammy, you're taking care of him." Dean was already holding a beer in each hand. "I can't deal with this crap right now."

He ignored Sam's concerned face and Jack's slight confusion at his change of emotions, heading to his room. He wanted to speed down the hall, but he forced himself to slow down, so not to raise suspicion.

Memories threatened to consume him the moment he shut the door. He opened a beer bottle, drinking about half of it before slamming it on his bedside table.

_Dean looked down at the dead body of his angel, the closed eyes and the bloody line going down the center of his stomach and staining the plain white shirt. He wasn't supposed to die, not like this._

_The hunter, with shaky arms, lifted Cas up and held him bridal-style. So many times, he had wanted to do this-- carry him to his bedroom, or into the Impala for some privacy. Everything he had wanted to say threatened to spill out, even if Cas was dead._

"You stupid son of a bitch," he muttered, as if Cas could actually hear. "You don't just die on me, you know. I want to hate you, but it wasn't your fault, but whatever. I could have freaking done something if I'd known...."

That numb sort of feeling felt like it was escaping him all at once, because suddenly, he felti it: the pain of losing his best friend and possible love of his life, watching his mother get pulled into an alternate dimension with the devil, even watching Crowley die. At this rate, he would take anything.

Nobody came in to check on him. Sam had probably told Jack to leave him be, and knowing how much the kid seemed to trust Sam considering how little time they'd known one another, he had probably listened. Dean got all the time he needed to numb his pain with alcohol, but he never felt quite like he intended.

Dean's phone was just sitting on the floor after the hunter had tossed it there during his emotional breakdown, if he was willing to call it that, and it stayed there. Not once did he check the time or the day of the week it was.

Because of that, it was a surprise when he saw his door open some time later. It could have been hours, minutes, or days, but either way, he'd somehow passed out holding a beer bottle, laying down on his bed so the little beer remaining slowly trickled onto his shirt. "Dean."

"Sammy?" Dean asked, sitting up. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

"It's not your brother. Sam is out getting food." Dean finally managed to make out what was in front of him-- Jack was sitting on the edge of his bed, just on the edge, like he were keeping his distance. "You never left your room after we arrived."

"So why the fuck do you think you can just come in here? I was fine." Dean rubbed at his head, as though he were suffering from a hangover. "This is normal, you know? For me to do crap like this."

"I may have not been in this world long, Dean, however, I do know what is and isn't normal. And consuming this much alcohol the way you did is not one of the normal things."

"You sound like Cas," Dean was saying suddenly. He hadn't even realized it had slipped out, but the dead angel was the main thing on his mind. "Damnit," he muttered to himself. 

"It's quite alright to think about him. I can tell you have strong feelings towards my father. I understand why you do." Jack looked Dean directly in the eyes. "When I was inside my mother, I sensed how much good he had inside him."

"Think I don't know that? I've known him for nine damn years, Jack, and I know damn near everything about the guy." Dean paused a little. "And I never said I loved him, 'kay?"

"I never said the word 'love.' I said you had strong feelings towards him." Jack suddenly looked like he'd figured something out, and got some kind of look in his eyes. "Do you love Castiel?"

"Fuck it, damnit, I freaking love the guy. There's not exactly any excuses I can make if you can see it." Dean sighed. "Not like he's ever gonna figure it out now, though."

_Laying the lifeless angel down on the table inside the house hurt to do. It only showed off that Cas really was dead, for all the world to see. No matter how hard Dean tried, he couldn't stop himself from looking up and down Cas's body, eyes always lingering on his face._

_He looked like he were sleeping. There was barely any blood. Anyone who saw him would think he was taking a nap. Dean looked around for a sheet or cloth to fully cover him, mostly to keep himself from reaching out to touch Cas._

_Before putting the heavy and slightly dirty cream colored sheet/blanket on top of Cas, Dean couldn't resist leaning over and gently kissing his forehead. Then, before he could stop himself, he kissed the angel's lips. It only depressed Dean more, knowing Cas was really dead and would never know how he felt._

_Taking one last, final look at the body now covered by fabric, Dean's eyes filled with tears as he walked out of the house._

"I will do all I can to ressurect him. I need him to protect me, and I love him as well, though not the same way you do." Jack stood up and with one last look in Dean's direction, he walked out, shutting the door.

Dean fell asleep soon after, dreaming about losing Mary and Cas all over again. In one dream, Mary was stabbed instead of pulled into the alternate reality. In another, Dean was embracing Cas, and was just about to lean in to kiss him when the angel was stabbed in the back, exactly the way he had witnessed it in real life. "Damn," he said, nostly to himself, "Cas, I just wish you were here with me."


End file.
